


Odds and Evens

by cordeliadelayne



Category: Silk (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Power Imbalance, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 15:04:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8290144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: Above all things, Clive considers himself a fair man.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sandrine Shaw (Sandrine)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrine/gifts).



> Written for sandrine. Originally posted to Livejournal in 2011.

There's an elegance to the law that few people truly appreciate. A certain way of doing things and acting that must be followed at all costs. There's a certain way of fitting in, of proving that you belong and have a right to practise the law, to weave in and out of its intricacies with a measured, sure, reliable step. That's why Clive's always been so good at his job, because he fits. It's not because of the old Boys Club, despite what Martha and Kate might drone on about. It's because he has the style of law all mapped out and it's a part of him just as much as he's a part of the establishment of the law.

Not like Nick. Nick is very definitely one of those people that just doesn’t fit in. He's not one of them, not in any recognisable fashion. Clive wouldn't even believe Nick had studied law if he hadn't checked with Billy. He was like a little lost puppy, following Martha and Niamh around all the time, not having any idea what he was doing, and yet managing to not completely mess up. At least not all the time. And Nick clearly needed the job because of the money, not because of any ideology, at least not any that Clive could identify – just looking at his shoes would tell you that.

It didn't tell you why Clive found him so worthy of observation though. Why Martha's obvious interest in Nick sent a frisson of jealousy shooting along Clive's spine. Why Clive's gaze followed Nick around as if of their own volition.

He didn’t do this. Well, he hadn't done this in a long time was more to the point. Fantasising about colleagues was one thing. Acting on that fantasy with female colleagues was seen as par for the course. But male colleagues? It was a dangerous risk to take.

It had been a short leap from deciding that the danger was part of the attraction to this, drinks in a pub that he'd never normally set foot in, staring at what he'd been assured was a white wine, but which tasted like something he'd expect a cat to do.

He and Nick regarded each other warily, and Clive relaxed the more on edge Nick became.

“Thanks, for this,” Nick finally said, indicating the pint in his hand. He took another nervous sip of it, and Clive was surprised that he just didn't down the whole thing in one. That's what he expected Nick's type to do.

“I thought it was time we got to know each other.”

Nick nodded, thoughtfully, his eyes drifting to Clive's fingers as they rested against the table. Then Clive's leg knocked against his and there was a spark of something in his eye that Clive had noticed whenever Nick came up with a point that made him seem far more intelligent than he looked. Which was rather more times that he would like to admit.

“Get to know like you got to know Niamh?” Nick asked.

Clive gave what he thought of as his most disarming smile. “In the interests of fairness...”

Nick just stared at him, and for the first time Clive felt a little wrong-footed.

“Fairness?” Nick finally asked. He took another, slow, sip of beer. “Like, judging each other's technique?”

Clive nearly choked on the wine he'd dared to sip. He hadn't exactly been thinking along those lines. At least not consciously.

“If that's how you want to view it...”

“Then what are we sitting here for, then?”

The challenge was unmistakable. And Clive rarely backed down from a challenge.

* * * * *

The one thing Clive had noticed immediately on meeting Nick was that working class attitude Martha used to such advantage but which made Nick seem somehow, incomplete. Unfinished. So in contrast to Niamh. It was those contrasts Clive tried to focus on as Nick sank to his knees in what even Clive could see was a practised motion.

Clive's head hit the back of the alley wall (and good god, why had he thought that here, some dingy East London hideaway, was the perfect venue for this, except of course it _was_ ) and Nick's mouth was built for this, perfect suction sending Clive's hands scrabbling to hold on to the wall for dear life.

He'd imagined tasting Nick the same way he'd tasted Niamh, soft kisses and even softer flesh. But there was nothing soft about Nick, not the way his hands grasped for purchase on Clive's thighs, not the way he grazed his teeth along Clive's erection, nor the way a finger drifted, blunt and probing, inside of him, and sent him spiralling over the edge.

He was left gasping for breath as Nick finished himself off with sharp, urgent tugs that Clive watched with a disinterest he wasn't totally faking. Now the deed had been done there was the air of finality about it; there would be no repeat performance.

He sighed softly to himself. It had been much the same way with Niamh, with Martha, with the string of girls and the odd boy, for as long as he could remember. He'd thought, in that tiny part of his brain that he left unfettered for that very purpose, that this time could have been different.

“That was good, yeah?” Nick asked him, turning towards him with those puppy dog eyes Clive had thought were reserved for Martha and Martha alone.

“Exceedingly,” Clive replied. He wondered when he had become that person, the one that hid behind platitudes and the tenets of the law.

“I'll get going then,” Nick said. Clive nodded. The boy had discretion, that at least was a mark in his favour.

Clive watched him go. This hadn't changed anything, he could see that now.

But then again, he mused, as he tidied himself up, he'd tasted Niamh more than once, it would be unfair not to grant Nick the same courtesy.

Perhaps the status quo was exactly what he needed, after all.


End file.
